


i've got a bullet proof heart (you've got a hollow point smile)

by rawdudebro



Series: Peter doesn't know how it happened, but somehow he ends up Tony Stark's mentee [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, but mostly lowkey angst, but never how tony ends up a parental figure, everyone writes very involved and protective tony, i just really like writing protective tony, summaries are fucken hard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-04-21 09:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14282295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rawdudebro/pseuds/rawdudebro
Summary: Peter didn’t hear directly from Tony after turning down the offer to join the Avengers. Obviously he still texted Happy frequent updates about his extracurriculars, but he never heard from Tony. That is until he runs across some sort of high tech blaster thing that has Tony's name all over it. Literally.Alternatively: Tony's attempt to keep Peter at arms length is overridden by his protective streak and the general likability of the kid.





	1. a slow night turns into what's probably the best thing to ever happen to Peter

Peter didn’t hear directly from Tony after turning down the offer to join the Avengers. Obviously he still texted Happy frequent updates about his extracurriculars, but he never heard from Tony. Ironman was out and about, stopping bombs and other threats. It kinda hurt a little that Tony hadn’t reached out, but he was busy. He didn’t have time for some kid from Queens. Peter couldn’t imagine owning a whole company, and being Ironman, and being the Avengers representative for the UN. Peter was barely managing being Spiderman and being in high school. Especially with the nightmares he’d been getting for the past month. 

He didn’t get them every night, just enough nights to make him wary of falling asleep. Instead, he stayed out as Spiderman until the early hours, until he felt like he might pass out mid swing. He was fine. He was taking care of himself. 

Since he was staying out so late, he found himself scrambling to do his homework, leaving him frantically filling it out on the bus before school, during lunch, and sometimes in class the period before it was due. Ned had worried over him when he’d first started, but Peter had assured him it was fine. He was still getting A’s, after all. So Ned happily chatted about whatever Lego set had caught his fancy, or the newest Mark Hamill interview that had just been released despite Peter’s distracted replies. 

May, on the other hand, was not pleased with Peter’s apparent withdrawal and refusal to talk to her. She could tell something was bothering him, and pushed for him to talk to her. Peter just insisted that he was fine, and he was fine. Well, he was maybe a little overwhelmed, but he could push through. He just needed to get over himself and his stupid fear that the Vulture was going to kill him. Vulture couldn’t hurt him from behind bars. Peter knew that. He did it’s just...

On nights like Peter was having, when it was dark and a little drizzle fell from the clouds above, it was hard to push away his terrible thoughts. The rain had chased all the criminals indoors for the night, leaving Peter with not much to do as he swung from building to building. 

He was low on web fluid anyways. He’d have to stock up tomorrow during lunch. Maybe he’d nab some of the locked up chemicals in the lab. He’s been playing with the web formula for a while, trying to make it stronger and longer lasting, but he didn’t have the space or the chemicals he needed to make and test the new formula. 

In an alleyway below him, a man took a drag of a cigarette, the smoke wafting upwards into Peter’s enhanced senses. He wasn’t very high up, though the building in the area were pretty tall.

“Anything happening, Karen?” He wondered.

“There seems to be a distinct lack of criminal activity within the parameters.” Karen replied.

“What about outside of the parameters?” He asked, only to be met with silence. “Karen?” 

“Per protocol, I am only to tell you of crimes that happen within the parameters that Mr. Stark has set.” Karen replied. 

Peter scoffed. The suit Stark had left on his bed had had several updates, one of which being a modified version of the Training Wheels protocol. Karen was there, so were most of the web options, but both instant kill mode, and interrogation mode were gone, and Karen had parameters and new protocols. He’s grateful that Mr. Stark let him keep Karen, but it still seemed like he was collaring Peter, just a little bit.

“I guess I’m gonna go talk to this guy, then.” With a hop, he touched down in the alleyway, causing the man to flinch. 

“Oh, woah, it’s okay!” Peter placated, hands out in a peaceful gesture. He remained tense, but seemed to settle as he lit up another cigarette.

“Spiderman.” The man greeted gruffly, as if he wasn’t sure if he should shake Peter’s hand, or run. He was middle aged, light hair peeked out of a drawn up hoodie, and shallow wrinkles lined his face. A pair of glasses perched on his nose. 

“That’s me.” Peter replied, he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. What had he come down here for? Oh, Yeah. He pointed at the cigarette “Those are bad for you.” 

“That tactic only has a 2% chance of success.” Karen piped up. Peter ignored her. 

The man sighed and took another drag. “I know.” 

“Well, if you know, why don’t you quit.” Peter asked, cocking his head. 

“It’s been a rough week, Spiderman.” He replied, “Hell, a rough year.” 

“Oh.” Peter replied. Suddenly, he felt small again. He was trying to make people's lives better, he was. Only it seemed like everywhere he turned people were still suffering. There were still people being robbed and shot and beat up. There was a beat of silence before Karen spoke again. 

“Reports of a public disturbance are reported three blocks from here.” 

“Well, I hope your year gets better.” He nodded at the man and retreated back to the rooftops. Was he even making a difference? He hoped so, he really did. 

Soon enough, Peter heard sounds of a loud verbal fight, and as Peter focused, so was the chlink of metal sliding across metal. A gun. He quickly made his way across the rooftops in time to see a stocky man, no older than 24, pointing a gun at a bristling girl holding a knife. Peter popped down into the middle, facing the man holding the gun. With a flick of his webs, he held the heavy metal in his hands. He stuck it to the wall with some webbing.

“Do you know what they say about bringing a gun to a knife fight?” Peter cocked his head to the side, focusing on the older guy. He couldn’t be that much older than Peter himself was, though Peter couldn’t really judge him for his age when he was also out on the streets, just on the opposite side. He didn’t answer Peter, so he continued. “Because I don’t actually know, so if you did that be super helpful. I mean, I got an english test on Monday and-” 

His spidey sense tingled just in time for him to avoid being stabbed by the woman behind him. Instead, he webbed her to the wall and kicked the knife away from reach. 

“Hey! You know, it’s not very nice to try and stab the guy who just stopped you from getting shot.” Peter chastised. 

“Potential stabbing victims show signs of gratitude about 37% of the time, whereas potential victims of theft show signs of gratitude 43% of the time, which is your highest percentage.” Karen chimed. 

“Karen, what? Why do you keep track of that?” He asked.

“It’s part of the Menace Protocol put in plac-“

“Actually, I don’t want to know.” He scowled. Menace Protocol? Seriously?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other man slowly backing away and out of the alley, so he kicked off of the wall and flipped in front of him. 

“No so fast.” He smirked. The other man groaned as Peter backed them back into the alleyway, trying to keep the coming fight from spilling out into the road. Though he hoped he didn't have to fight at all. The thought that the man might surrender was nice, but ultimately unlikely.

“I’m beginning to think you guys don’t wanna hang out with me.” Peter sighed, disappointedly. “First you try to stab me, then you try to ditch me? I thought we were closer than that.” 

“We’re not friends, Spiderman.” The man grunted, pulling a different, sleeker gun out of his belt. This time, it made a barely audible noise that sounded like Mr. Starks repulsors firing up before letting off a blast that tore through a dumpster just behind where Peter had been. Shit.

“Shit.” Peter blurted. 

“Peter, a blast from that would severely injure you. Don’t get hit.” Karen directed.

“Gee thanks, Karen. I wouldn’t have guessed.” He replied, peering at the smoking hole in the dumpster. The gun charged again, giving Peter enough warning to jump out of the way of a second blast, which hit a fire escape, leaving a smoking hole. 

“I suggest you neutralize him.” Karen intoned. 

Peter ignored her, focusing on the guy, who trained the gun. Swiftly, Peter pulled the blaster away from the man as he had with the gun earlier. He planted the new one next to the other gun, swiftly webbing up the guy, placing him on the wall next to the girl. After securing them both, he hunted around for the knife he had kicked earlier. He found in under the ruined dumpster, and he gently picked it up with his fingertips. It was covered in molten garbage, which had spilled out of the gaping hole. 

“Gross.” He muttered as he webbed it to the wall next to the other weapons. Then he stepped over to the criminals, fishing a phone out of the guy’s pocket. He dialed 911, pacing back and forth. 

“911, what’s your emergency.” 

“Hey, it’s me. Spiderman, I mean.” Peter blurted. 

“Oh.” The operator made a small noise of surprise. “I’m supposed to transfer you to Detective DeWolff.”

“Yeah, listen, I just stopped a street fight. There’s two bad guys webbed to the wall, plus a gun, a knife, and a definitely illegal blaster.. thing…” 

Peter trained off as he caught sight of the blaster again. On the handle, emblazoned in a dark black, was the unmistakable insignia of Stark Industries. He dropped the phone away from his ear as he asked, “Karen, is that… legit?” 

“It is not a forgery.” Karen admitted after a minute. Peter scowled and pulled the phone back to his ear. 

“Scratch.. Um, Scratch the blaster. Yeah no blaster, I’m taking it with me.” He interrupted to operator mid sentence. 

“If it’s evidence, you need to leave it.” The operator warned, but Peter had already set the phone down on the lid of a trash can, ripping the gun from the wall, and peeling away the webbing. The words Stark Industries were engraved across the barrel. 

“Karen, call… Call Happy.” He muttered as he swung up to the rooftop, blaster in hand. 

“Past data indicates he will not answer. This seems important; you should call Mr. Stark instead.” Karen asked. 

“Sure, Karen, whatever.” Peter replied, not really listening. He was focused on the blaster in his hands, fingers running over the engraving. Stark. It had Tony’s name on it. Mr. Stark hadn’t been making weapons for years, or at least he wasn’t supposed to be. And this? This was high tech. A cutting edge weapon that only could’ve been produced within that last year or so. It had the same kind of destructive power as Toomes’ weapons had, only it seemed to be Stark tech. 

A flash of annoyance went through Peter, at the thought of Tony lying about SI projects. The thought of Tony arming anyone, much less street thugs with these guns that could cause so much damage. Maybe he should’ve left the blaster at the crime scene, and let Tony deal with the media blowout when that detail was revealed. But he didn’t. Besides, Mr. Stark would have a good explanation. There had to be a reason. 

“Peter, are you okay?” Tony’s voice sounds crisp through the speakers. “You’re not hurt or anything are you?” 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter exclaimed. He told Karen to call Happy. 

“That is my name, Underoos.” Tony replied, sounding annoyed, his voice a little rough, as. “Are you going to tell me why you called me in the middle of the night, or do I have to guess.” 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. Did I wake you up?” Peter fretted, “I told Karen to call Happy, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“The point, Kid.” Tony sounded weary. 

“I found…” Peter glanced down at the blaster in his hands. “It can wait until tomorrow Mr. Stark. Please go back to sleep I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” Tony replied bluntly. “You found?”

“A gun, Mr. Stark. I found a gun.” Peter let out the breath he’d been holding. 

Now Tony knows that Peter knows he’s making blaster gun things, and he knows that Peter wouldn’t leave it at the crime scene. He knows the field day the press would have if they found out. But they wouldn’t. Because Peter would take care of it, and Tony would know he could trust Peter with anything. And maybe he could convince him to get these things off of the streets.

“You find guns all the time. Web it to the wall like you usually do and call it a day.” Peter knew Mr. Stark was shaking his head on the other side of the phone. 

“No, Mr. Stark, I found one of your guns. Blaster or whatever.” Peter elaborated.

“I’m sorry?” Tony sounded more awake now. Peter could practically hear the arched eyebrow through the phone. 

“Don’t worry Mr. Stark. I didn’t leave it for the police to find. I know the press would crucify you. You know, if you’re going to make guns under the table, you shouldn’t engrave your name into them.” Peter tried to joke and lighten the mood, but Tony’s mood seemed to get even worse.

“Peter, what?” Tony seemed genuinely confused. “Actually, you know what? Just meet me at my penthouse in Queens. Bring the gun. I’ll send Karen the coordinates.” 

Peter knew the man hung up because Karen pulled up a display of the city. A red dot blinked over a skyscraper near Peter’s apartment. 

Was he in trouble? He didn’t leave the gun. Maybe Mr. Stark was worried he would tell people. Maybe Mr. Stark didn’t want anyone to know and now he’s going to take away Peter’s suit and tell May he’s Spiderman. He wouldn’t. Would he? 

“Peter, you need to go north.” Karen snapped him out of his thoughts. Peter shook his head and swung to the coordinates Mr. Stark had sent, thoughts nagging at the back of his mind. The building wasn’t the tallest building in Queens, but it was the most flashy architecturally. 

Tony was already on the roof when he arrived, pacing in an oil stained tank top and ripped jeans, despite the cold. As soon as Peter touched down he held out his hands. “The gun.” 

Peter swiftly handed it over, taking in Tony’s appearance. He was looking more stressed than usual, and his face sported a four o’clock shadow from not shaving his goatee. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I promise I won’t tell anybody. Please don’t take the suit away.” Peter couldn’t stop the word vomit and when he met Tony’s eyes, the man was staring at him incredulously.

“I didn’t make this.” He said, face hardening into an expressionless mask. 

“What?” Peter asked. That didn’t make any sense.

“You didn’t honestly think I’ve been making weapons, did you?” Mr. Stark asked. “You know me better than that, Kid.” 

That made Peter feel bad. It had the engraving and he had just assumed. He shouldn’t have. He should’ve talked to Happy before he jump to conclusions.

“I just… I saw the engravings and Karen said they were legit. I didn’t know what to think.” Peter explained meekly.

“Well, you’re right. This is our logo. I just thought…” Tony trailed off as he stared down at Peter with an unreadable expression on his face. “In any case, I’m glad you came to me.” 

“Well yeah, what was I going to do? Leave it for the reporters?” Peter beamed up at him, bouncing his shoulder into Mr. Starks, who furrowed his eyebrows.

“What were you going to do if it was mine?” He asked, voice tight.

Peter shrugged. “Give it to you. Keep my mouth shut.” 

Tony’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond, only jerk his head to the door and say, “C’mon Kid, Let’s go inside.” 

The inside of the penthouse was a brightly lit space with wide open areas. Off to one side was a lab area, separated by glass windows, and to another was a lounge area. Peter took his mask off and left it on the counter, taking the bottle of water Tony had offered him. 

“What- What’s this building for?” Peter asked as he marveled at the lab through the glass.

“I just own the penthouse.” Tony shrugged, as if it wasn’t really a big deal, “I thought it would be good for you to have a place to go nearby in case you ever got in trouble.” 

“Oh my god.” Peter breathed, “You bought a whole penthouse for me? That’s crazy, Mr. Stark.” 

“Oh no, this is definitely for me. Someplace I can keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t die and all that jazz.” Mr. Stark snorted back. They headed into the lab, and Tony deposited the blaster on a table for FRIDAY to scan and deconstruct. Peter wandered around, peering into all the cabinets and looking at the various instruments. 

FRIDAY notified them of the scan completion, and pulled up holograms of the deconstruction. Peter perched himself on a stool near the edge of the area, and watched as the man got to work sifting through the various models. He was really glad Mr. Stark hadn't decided to kick Peter out while he worked. Mostly because watching Tony Stark work was a dream come true, but also because he wanted to see this through. If Tony hadn’t made the blaster, then who had? There were bound to be more, and Spiderman couldn’t catch them all. They were dangerous, and Peter didn’t want them on his streets. He shifted around a little, eventually finding a comfortable position to observe. He was dead tired, but he wasn’t going to miss a single second of whatever this was. 

Despite all his fighting he felt his eyelids begin to droop as Tony worked through a single tiny mechanism, blown up at 400%, but he jumped back to full consciousness as Tony leaned back and said, “Huh.”

“What is it, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, wide eyed.

“I guess I made this after all.” Tony replied, scratching the back of his head. 

“What?” Peter yelped, surprised.

“The blaster is a combination of the latest taser in SI’s line and some sort of quantum energy modifier.” Tony elaborated. “I made it. Or at least part of it.”

“Stark Industries makes tasers?” Peter cocked his head as he tried to stand, only to stumble a bit as his legs straightened out and his head swam. 

“I was trying to get NYPD to replace the guns on their uniforms, but-” Tony turned to look at Peter and cut out suddenly. “Jesus, kid, when’s the last time you slept? Oh shit, you have school today? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I wanted to, uh, to watch you work.” Peter muttered, hoping he didn’t sound creepy. “I’m fine. I slept last night.” 

Sort of. For a few hours at least, but something tells Peter that’s not what Tony meant, and that something was Tony correcting, “No you didn’t, your feed didn’t cut off until like 2:30.”

“My feed? You watch the Baby Monitor?” Peter cried out. Of course Mr. Stark did. He didn’t trust Peter to do his Spiderman thing without supervision, despite the fact he’d been doing it for nearly a year before Germany without any sort of help. 

“... It plays in the background while I’m working. I’m just keeping an eye on you making sure you’re being safe, which means going to bed at a reasonable hour.” Tony leveled him with a stare.

“Yeah, whatever.” Peter sullenly replied, looking down at the floor with bleary eyes. 

“Go home, Peter. We can finish this up tomorrow after school.” Tony directed, all but pushing him out of the lab. Peter groaned, but hastily pulled his mask on and departed the building, heeding Tony’s final words of, “Straight home, Spiderman. I mean it.”

He all but collapsed into bed after hastily chucking his suit underneath it and out of sight. He was so tired that in his haste to burrow under his covers he nearly missed that Tony used the word ‘we’. He rolled over and, for tonight at least, slept dreamlessly.


	2. tomorrow, tomorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete and Tony fight some bad guys.

The next day in school, Peter was distracted. His mind ran a million miles an hour, both in anticipation and apprehension about what would happen after school. 

“We can finish this up after school tomorrow.” Mr. Stark had said. We? What did that entail exactly. Was Peter just going to go watch Mr. Stark work again? Don’t get him wrong, that would be great, but he’d also like to apprehend the bad guys too. Maybe Tony would want to do that himself. Maybe he only said ‘we’ to get Peter to go home. What if he showed up on the roof and Mr. Stark wasn’t there. What if he didn’t want Peter’s help catching him. He knows Mr. Stark doesn’t need his help, but Peter wants to help. 

“Dude, what’s up with you?” Ned kicked his foot from the seat beside him. His last period was lab, which he shared with Ned. 

“What? Nothing.” Peter hissed back as the teacher droned on. 

“Uh huh, that’s why you’ve been extra spaced out today.” Ned rolled his eyes. “It’s been weeks, Peter. I thought you’d get over whatever slump you’re in. Maybe you should talk to Mr. Stark.” 

“I’m not in a slump, Ned. And I'm not going to bother Mr. Stark with my problems, not when-“ Peter cut himself off, peering around. Except Ned, his classmates were paying about as much attention to him as they were the teacher, which is to say none at all. 

“When…” Ned prompted, voice inquisitive.

“I found something. And Tony’s helping me with it.” Peter explained as vaguely as possible. “Or I’m helping him with it? I don’t know, but I don’t want to mess up. If I tell him he’ll think I’m not ready and pull me off the case.” 

“So you’re admitting there’s something to tell, then?” Ned pressed, completely disregarding the rest of Peter’s words.

“It’s nothing, Ned. I’ve already told you, it’s just because I’ve been staying out late.” Peter scowled. 

“Sure, Peter.” Ned replied in a bitter tone. He obviously didn’t believe Peter, but he stopped pressing. Peter could get over it, he could. He just needed more time. 

“Look Ned, I’m sorry.” Peter sighed. “I’m really tired. Can we just pay attention.” 

Peter’s best friend gave him a sorrowful look before nodding and turning back to the front. Peter sighed and tuned back into the teachers ramblings about pipettes. Honestly, he didn’t know why he had to do the pre readings if they were just going to cover them in class. 

Not long after, the final bell rang dismissing them for the rest of the day. Peter waved goodbye to Ned as he turned to walk towards the building he met Mr. Stark at last night instead of towards Ned’s house with him. Once he arrived at the base of the building however, he hesitated. 

‘We’, Tony had said. Did that really mean him and Peter. Was Peter just supposed to show up after school? Should he show up as Peter or as Spiderman? How was he even supposed to get in? This was all so stressful. Peter clutched his bag tighter to his shoulder and paced in the dingy alleyway. The glittering glass windows of the surrounding skyscrapers scattered bounces of light all around him. 

The front door to the building opened, and the sound of expensive shoes tap-tapped until Peter found himself facing Tony Stark, who smiled mirthfully, “Wow, when FRIDAY said you were pacing in the alley I thought she was being dramatic.” 

“Oh. Hi, Mr. Stark! I just- I was- I-“ Peter stuttered, adjusting his grip on his backpack.

“Why didn’t you just come in, Kid? We’ve got work to do.” Tony shook his head, gesturing the kid to follow him to the front door. He paused for a second to swipe a key card and led them into a mostly empty lobby area. 

“I just- I didn’t know…” Peter trailed off, waving his hands in a way that made sense to absolutely no one.

“Oh! I must’ve forgotten to get you your key card. It’s upstairs in the lab, c’mon.” Tony corralled them into a glass elevator and waved his key card again. Much like the elevators at SI and the compound, it didn’t have buttons. Unfortunately, it didn’t have FRIDAY either, only the key card scanner.

“I only installed FRIDAY in the penthouse.” Tony noticed Peter look around at the lack of FRIDAY’s voice. “It’s a little bit of a secret that this is second base.” 

“Second base?” Peter cocked his head.

“Well, if the Avengers compound is home plate, this is kind of a halfway point. Second base.” Tony shrugged. 

“That analogy is out of left field.” Peter replied, watching as Tony cracked a smile.

“Alright, smartass, what analogy do you have then?” Tony poked Peter who shrugged. 

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. Does there have to be an analogy at all?” Peter snickered as Tony shook his head.

“You’re testy today, Underoos.” Tony replied before hesitantly asking, “How was school?” 

Peter shrugged as the elevator opened up, dropping his filthy backpack on a pristine couch. Flash hadn’t really bothered him today. School kinda passed by in a blur. “It was school. I had an english test.” 

“Yeah? Did you do good?” Tony prodded. Seeming genuinely interested and not just asking. After a surprised pause, Peter replied, “I don’t know. We don’t get our scores back until Friday.” 

“Good, good.” Tony mused. He opened his mouth, but hesitated before he asked, “You’re doing okay, right? With school and Spiderman?” 

Peter thought about what Ned said. He should tell Tony. He should tell him that school and Spiderman and the nightmares compounded into a giant mess that he was struggling to handle, but what would Tony do? He would tell Peter to spend less time as Spiderman and kick him off this case. Peter frowned at that thought, but quickly cleared his face. 

“What? Yeah. I’m all good.” Peter ran his fingers through his hair. “What about the blaster thing?” 

Tony looked at him suspiciously for a second before throwing up the specs. “Well, I’ve identified most parts of the gun, but I’m having trouble with this part. It’s tiny, and I can’t tell what it’s made out of or it’s mechanical significance without taking a closer look.” 

Peter peered into the hologram, feeling like he’d seen these pieces before, but not knowing where. “It looks like a firing pin.” 

“Exactly!” Tony exclaimed, “But it doesn’t match any model FRIDAY can pull up and why would a repulsor based weapon need a firing pin? It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Is it from whatever the bad guys mashed your taser with?” Peter peered up at Tony, unsure.

“See, that’s what I was thinking too, only it didn’t match anything, so that got me thinking about who would have the precision to mash my tech together and still make it look so…” Tony gestured to the sleek blaster. “Seamless.” 

Peter picked up the blaster, flipping it over carefully. Tony was right. For an amalgamation of multiple pieces of tech, it seemed oddly manufactured. As far as he could tell, there was no point on the pieces of metal that had been sewed together, not that he knew much about metal working. Tony pointed over his shoulder at a small pattern in the smooth metal. “To melt these pieces together so seamlessly here, they would’ve had to heat it to 3000 degrees Kelvin and then have the precision to smooth it over without leaving noticeable bumps or dents.” 

“That’s really hot.” Peter replied, smoothing his thumb over the swirl. “How many places can get that hot?” 

“On the east coast? Two. Both of them are right here in New York.” Tony grinned, seeming pleased at Peter’s question.

“Did you find anything?” Peter turned around, assuming Mr. Stark had already gone to check them out. He seemed to have this whole thing figured out already. Of course he didn’t need Peter’s help. Still, Peter was overjoyed that Mr. Stark was telling him all this, rather than just saying he took care of it.

“I just figured all this out, like an hour ago. I was waiting for you to show up so we could check it out.” Tony replied. 

“Oh my god. Thank you Mr. Stark.” Peter beamed up at Tony, bouncing over to his bag, where he stowed his suit. He nabbed the suit and shuffled into the bathroom as Tony shook his head, “It’s your case, Spiderling.”

Peter stepped out of the bathroom a second later and tossed his clothes in his bag as he asked, “So, where are we going?” 

“We’re going to an old Hammer Industries plant first, but Peter I need you to listen to me right now.” Tony replied, putting on his best serious voice. 

Peter turned to face him, looking like Tony had just ran over his puppy. In a soft voice, he said, “I thought you said I could go.” 

“You can, Peter.” Tony assured, “But it’s going to be dangerous, and I need you to promise me you’ll listen to me. These guns are dangerous so no going off on your own and you have to do everything I say.” 

“Of course, Mr. Stark.” Peter promised. 

“I mean it, Peter. I am in charge of making sure you stay alive. Everything I say.” Tony stared down at the kid. He looked almost worried. 

“I promise.” Peter replied, staring back earnestly. 

“Alright.” Tony grinned flinging his arms out. “Let’s get this show on the road, then”

Pieces of the Iron Man suit flew down and attached themselves to Tony rather violently, crawling up his arms and legs with audible clicks. Tony sauntered out onto the roof as the rest of his suit assembled, faceplate clicking into place as he stepped onto the ledge. Peter hastily shoved on his mask and followed. 

“Hello, Peter. I have been sent coordinates, would you like directions?” Karen greeted. 

“No thanks, Karen. I’ll just follow Mr. Stark.” Peter replied, tapping at his web shooters. He didn’t need to turn them on or anything but it helped to shake them up a bit before he used them, otherwise the chemical reaction gets a bit wonky on the first shot. 

“Keep those coordinates, Karen. Spiderchild might not be able to keep up.” Tony joked as Peter spluttered, “Spiderchild?” 

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” Karen replied, but Tony had already soared off, the sound of his flight propulsers fading. 

“Oh, hell no.” Peter muttered, taking a running leap off of the edge of the building, catching another with a web and throwing his whole body into the swing. At the top of his arc, he shot another web, flying closer to Tony with each flick. 

“Hey Mr. Stark!” Peter called with a whoop. Tony peered up as Peter let go of a string of web and flipped forwards in the air before shooting another. Tony rolled his eyes and put some boost into the thrusters, doing a corkscrew turn as he streamed next to Peter.

“Huh, I guess you can keep up.” Tony mused, a chuckle in his voice. 

“I can do better than that.” Peter replied smugly, “Hey Karen, pull up those coordinates.” 

“I’ve marked them on your Heads Up Display.” Karen replied.

“So we’re playing that game, huh?” Tony replied, “FRI, show me the fastest route to the coordinates.” 

There was a pause as FRIDAY spoke, and suddenly Tony pushed off from his course and twirled into the air. “See you there, Underoos!” 

“At current course speed, Mr. Stark will beat you by fourteen-point-one-two seconds.” Karen piped up.

“That is-“ Peter thwipped another web, “-so very helpful, Karen. I’m going as fast as I can.” 

“Would you like me to calculate shortcuts?” Karen asked in a tone that sounded innocent.

“Would I like you to- Would I like you to calculate shortcuts?” Peter spluttered. “Yes Karen, I would.” 

“Take a left.” Karen directed and Peter hastily changed direction, scraping against a brick building for a few seconds due to the clumsy maneuver. 

A few minutes later, Peter released his final web and touched down on the withdirt a flip as Tony landed in a crouch. Immediately, he straightened up, turning to Peter.

“What happened?” He grabbed Peter’s arm and grabbed the edge of a rip in his suit. 

“What?” Peter looked down. “Oh, no. Aww, shit. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I bumped into a building on my way. I didn’t realize.” 

“It’s fine, Kid. I mean, it’s not -the suit has a tear in it and you scared me half to death- but I’m glad you didn’t get ambushed and stabbed or something equally horrible.” Tony brushed his hands across the rip, exposing Peter’s bicep. “That suit is expensive, you know. Let’s get back so I can fix this up.” 

“What? Go back?” Peter cried. “We’re already here. Please Mr. Stark, the rip isn’t even that big and we gotta go bust some bad guys. Bad guys with guns, remember?” 

“I’m not taking you anywhere with a hole in your suit. It’s dangerous. We can check it out tomorrow.” Tony shook his head. 

“Mr. Stark, please. You don’t know what these guys can do with guns. It take a second to pull a trigger, Tony. How many times can they pull one in a whole day?” Peter pleaded. He wouldn’t go. Tony would have to pull him away kicking and screaming. Tony looked at him a second before he seemed to realize that.

“Fine.” He relented. “But if you feel even a scratch through that tear, you tell me.” 

Peter nodded, “Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah, yeah, Kid. Don’t get mushy on me. You know I’m allergic to feelings.” Tony lightly punched Peter’s arm. Peter sent a blinding smile up at Tony.

“You got it, Mr. Stark.” Peter lightly punched Tony back before bounding up to the boarded up door. With a push, the door all but fell off its hinges. “C’mon, Mr. Stark. Let’s go kick some ass.” 

Tony sighed but stepped into the dark lobby. Trash lined the once smooth marble floors, and graffiti marked up the walls despite the entrances being rather hard to use. Peter perched atop a marble column that had been broken about halfway up. 

“Hey Mr. Stark, I thought you said this place was a factory? It seems really fancy, like an office or something.” Peter hopped down next to Tony. 

“The factory part is through here.” Tony gestured to a pile of wreckage blocking some doors. “FRIDAY, send the building schematics to Peter.” 

“Sent.” 

Peter refocused as Karen accepted and displayed the file on his HUD. “Huh. This place is big.” 

“Meh. Size isn’t everything.” Tony shrugged. “Let’s clear this rubble, Kid.” 

“Yeah, sure thing, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied, hopping right into it. He picked up a portion of broken marble column and placed it to the side. Tony shook his head, but grabbed a rod of metal and moved it out of the way. Once a big enough hole was cleared, they both stepped into the hallway. 

It was damper and darker that it had been in the lobby, and the scent of mildew was carried through the air. It didn’t look like anything was here, but Peter paced on, undeterred. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, only more darkness. After a few minutes, Tony stopped.

“Kid, I don’t think there’s anything here.” Tony proclaimed loudly, to which Peter jerked around, shushing him. 

“Not so loud, Mr. Stark. They’ll hear us.” Peter hissed.

“Who?” Tony asked. “There’s no one here. It looks like nothing has happened here since it shut down.” 

Peter paused, cocking his head. “You don’t… hear that?” 

“Hear what?” Tony asked. “FRIDAY, what’s the kid talking about?” 

“Sensors are picking up on low-level background noise.” FRIDAY informed. “The origin seems to be up ahead.” 

“Then we go on.” Tony nodded. Peter nodded and returned to his brisk pace. 

This was going great. Mr. Stark was there, and they were going to bust some bad guys. More importantly, they were going to stop more of these blasters from getting out on the streets. Hopefully Peter could track down the ones already out there and get them before they cause too much damage. This was everything Spiderman was about, and Tony, Iron Man, was here with him. This was more than Peter could’ve ever imagined. 

As they neared closer to the end of the hallway, the low hum turned into the clinking of metal sliding against metal with a side of low voices chattering. Peter crouched near the entrance, asking Karen for Advanced Reconnaissance Mode.

“Yeah, yeah, so I was telling the boss, ‘these things are wicked’, but he wanted something a little low profile, didn’t want anything this flashy. I think he’s afraid of the Spiderman. But then I was like, ‘but yo, imagine what we could do with these’ and he was like, ‘aight, we can do a trail run, but we gotta keep it lowkey’, so I was like ‘aight, I’ll just nab a few then.’” A voice spoke, smooth and low. Sounding a little excited and a little nervous.

“So, how many did you want?” A voice grunted back, gruff and low. There were two men, from what Peter could tell.

“Like I said, just a few. But if it goes good…” The dude replied, letting the end trail off in a higher tone. There was silence on the other end until eventually the same lilting voice added. “Like three, man, c’mon. How much?” 

“Two thousand, two hundred and fifty.” The lower voice grunted back. 

“Oh man, that much?” The other man whined. “That’s like… I don’t even know how much for one! Any way you could go lower?”

“No.”

“Man, fuck you.” The other man sighed, “I aint even want to do this, but you’re going to make me.”

There was a shifting and the sound of a gun being loaded and cocked. Tony shifted beside him, FRIDAY conveying the same audio.

“Gimme the blasters.” The voice demanded, lower and more menacing.

“I do not have them. The boss keeps them with him.” The man laughed. “Put away your toy.” 

“Don’t make me shoot you.” The other guy replied, “I’ll do it.”

“Okay, enough of this.” Tony rolled his eyes, shooting into a large ceilinged area. Conveyor belts stood frozen and dusty, and the only people in the room were the two. A clunky generator hooked through a hole in the wall and powered the lights. The man with the gun quickly turned and fired at Tony, who didn’t react as it bounced off his chestplate. He was the younger of the two, and wore ripped jeans. The older man wore a crisp suit and seemed unbothered by their presence as he sat in a dingy fold out chair.

“Yoink!” Peter scrambled behind him, webbing the gun away. It landed on the floor, where Peter cemented its position with more webbing. Nobody would be getting this gun up for at least two hours. 

“So,” Tony began, lifting a glowing flight stabilizer towards each man, “Who’s ‘the boss’?” 

“Ah, shit.” The younger man replied, “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Hello, Tony Stark.” The older man rose to his feet withdrawing a blaster. “And goodbye, too.” 

Peter shot a web towards the gun, which missed and caught the man's hand instead. He yanked hard as the man pulled the trigger, making the shot fly wide into an overhead light. With another stream of webbing, he managed to smack the gun into a beam that ran from the ceiling to the floor, smothering it with a chunk of webs. 

“Goodbye? But we just got here.” He quipped. “And we’re not leaving until we get what we need.”

Both men shifted on their feet a bit nervously as Tony’s gauntlets charged up with an audible hum. “I’ll ask again. Who’s your boss?”

The younger man shifted nervously, gesturing to the beam beside Tony, “Ay man, I’on think it’s supposed to do that.” 

Tony cast a glance to the side, where the gun seemed to almost vibrate under the force of Peter’s webbing. With a final high pitched whining sound, it exploded, taking out most of the column. Peter flinched as his spidey sense flared in response, feeling chilled to the bone, like that time he’d fallen into the Hudson river in December before Tony had given him his sweet new suit. 

It didn’t mean anything, Peter knew. His spider sense was wonky about large columns like that after Toomes, and there were several others still keeping the building up. There’s no way it’d fall, especially not with Tony there. Chunks of marble bounced harmlessly off of Tony’s suit, but Peter knew he was disappointed he couldn’t take apart that blaster too. Here he was, disappointing his idol, yet again. 

“This has been fun, Tony Stark, but I will be leaving now.” The fanicer of the two men rose from his chair as the lights flickered out and they were plunged into darkness. 

The building shook around them, and Peter just barely avoided being crushed by a falling chunk of cement. Tony blasted a hole in the roof with his repulsors, snaking an arm around Peter’s torso and lifting them straight up into the cool night air. Peter dangled uselessly as he watched the roof crack and sink into the ground with a strange fixation. That was almost him. Again. Tony settled them onto the ground, steadying Peter as his feet brushed the uneven dirt. He took a deep, shaky breath, still staring at the building. 

“That was eventful.” Tony snorted, lifting the faceplate. “You good, kid?” 

“Hmm?” Peter tore his eyes away from the building to look up at Mr. Stark. “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Stark. I’m good.”

Tony furrows his eyebrows together, frowning down at Peter. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Peter weakly replied. He had disappointed Mr. Stark when he froze. The stupid building was collapsing and Peter just froze. “I’m sure.”

Tony looked like he wanted to argue, but he shook his head and turned towards the sky. His boots hummed as they powered up, and he floated about a foot off of the ground, turning back to say, “Well, let’s head back to the penthouse. I think we should call it a night.”

“What about the other factory?” Peter asked, unsure. What if Tony was going to send him home and check it out by himself because Peter was a failure and froze. He let the bad guy get away and exploded the blaster that would’ve been evidence. Mr. Stark arched an eyebrow.

“Well, I have a spidersuit to fix tonight.” He replied.

“Oh right.” Peter cringed, “Sorry.”

There was a beat before Peter blurted, “What about patrol tonight?”

“Listen kid, you put a tear in the multi million dollar suit, so now you gotta wait for me to fix it. Besides, you’re my responsibility, and I can’t be sending you out with a suit with a hole in it. What would all the other Superheroes think?” Tony rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep at a reasonable hour tonight, or something. I don’t know.”

Peter’s jaw clenches as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah, okay, Mr. Stark.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Kid?” Tony 

“Doesn’t mean anything.” Peter shrugged, digging a toe into the dirt. It meant Peter couldn’t get a good nights sleep, hasn’t been able to for weeks. 

Tony scoffed, “Yeah, sure, Kid. I’m not dealing with your teenage angst right now.”

Peter huffed, but didn’t respond, and crossed his arms. It was just teenage angst. This is why he didn’t tell Mr. Stark, because it wasn’t even important. He just needed to deal with it.

“Let’s head out, Spiderling.” Tony snapped the faceplate back down and shot into the air. 

Peter rolled his shoulders back and shot a web to follow him. The trip back was quiet and awkward, at least on Peter’s part. The mutual teasing and camaraderie all but gone as Peter reached the roof. He entered the penthouse and headed straight for the bathroom to change out of the suit. Tony was right. He should just get some sleep tonight. Maybe that will make him feel better, more in control. With a sigh, he pulled his sweater back on and trudged back out into the living space. He sets the suit down on the island counter, watching as Tony rummaged through the minifridge on the counter.   
“Anything to drink?” Tony asked, then added. “Nonalcoholic.” 

“No thanks, Mr. Stark.” Peter shook his head and fiddled with the hem of his sweater. He should get going so Tony could work, anyways. No use hanging around.

“Okay.” Tony pulled back with a Coke in hand. “I’ll call Happy and he can take you home.”

“Happy doesn’t have to come get me.” Peter protested. “It’s only a two blocks to my apartment.”

Tony turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “It’s no trouble. I pay him to drive everywhere.”

“I know that, Mr. Stark.” Peter replied, “I just wanted to walk.”

He didn’t really want to face Happy right now, knowing that he’d failed Tony. Happy would be undeniably smug about it. He knew Happy thought he was annoying, and just a kid, and immature. 

“Okay, Spiderling.” Tony shrugged, “Don’t get kidnapped on your way home.”

With that, Tony had swept into the lab, grabbing Peter’s suit off of the counter with a flourish. Peter watched as Tony laid the suit out on the worktable for a second, before turning to gather his backpack. With one last glance at Tony, who was pulling out a few tools from a drawer, he left. 

The sun was skirting the tops of the surrounding buildings, painting the whole sky golden. This is when Peter usually took a break and ate, perched at the top of one of the tall structures. Today, however, Peter was headed home. He’d make dinner, and when May got home at seven thirty they’d share a nice meal. With that plan in mind, he bounced through the streets. He decided to take a shortcut through an alleyway when his eyes caught on a dumpster. Something in him told Peter that the dumpster was important, so with a brief look around, he walked up to it. 

It was no different than any other dumpster, and Peter would know, because he ended up crash landing inside, or being body slammed into more often that he thought he would. It stank like garbage, and the blue paint was chipped and rusted. It seemed like every other dumpster he’d come across. Peter almost turned away, but then he peered up, and recognised the windchimes hanging from the fire escape above. He’d fallen off of the roof and landed in the dumpster last month while running away from the police. Huh. 

He lifted the lid, wincing at the squeak, and with another quick look around, he pulled out a bag of trash. Something shifted, and a gallon sized ziplock bag fell at his feet. Peter dropped the trash bag, bending to pick up the ziplock, which was full of tiny metal pieces. Peter blinked twice, then rubbed his eyes. He was holding a bag of tiny firing pins. 

He slung his backpack off of one shoulder and around his side, digging frantically into the front pocket for his phone. Three pens and a highlighter fell out, but Peter managed to grab ahold of his phone. He unlocked it and opened the phone app. He didn’t have Mr. Stark’s number, but he had Happy’s. He pressed Happy’s contact and waited. It rang twice and forwarded Peter to Happy’s voicemail. 

“C’mon, Happy.” Peter hissed to himself, “This is important.”

He dialed again. This time it rung six times before going to voicemail. Peter was about to call again when footsteps and loud voices came his way. A door squeaked as it opened somewhere nearby. He shoved the ziploc into his backpack, scrambling to pick up his fallen utensils, and jogged out of the alleyway. He calls Happy again once he’s back on a main street and headed towards his apartment, but there is no answer. 

~~~~

Tony stopped rifling through drawers as soon as the elevator doors closed behind Peter. He took a deep breath, rifling his fingers through his hair, mussing it further from the previous mess it had been. Helmet Hair was a pain. Here he was, thinking about hemet hair when he had bigger problems. Namely the blaster and the Spiderling who he can’t seem to say the right things to. He wasn’t Peter’s dad. Hell, it was a stretch to call Tony his mentor. Still, he felt oddly responsible for the kid. Rhodey said he ‘cared’ about him, as if he was capable of feelings. 

“FRIDAY, make sure the kid gets home.” Tony directed before he forgot.

“Yes, boss.” Came the chiming reply. 

This whole thing was a mess. How many blasters are out there? Whoever was selling them put a high premium on them, probably due to the destructive power and possibly limited supplies? FRIDAY had been going through all taser sales since yesterday, and she hadn’t caught any leads. The Hammer Industries was probably a production point, but he couldn’t confirm, due to the fact that the building had collapsed. Tony dragged a tired hand across his face, remembering the way the kid had been weird about the roof. There was probably something more there, but he hadn’t elaborated when Tony asked if he was good, and Peter wasn’t his to worry about. Still, something niggled in the back of his head about the weird way Peter had stared down at the mess. 

With a shake of his head, Tony tried to refocus. He smoothed out the Spidersuit, deftly assessing the hole. No major systems had been damaged, but the heating and cooling system’s wires were torn apart, and several data microchips were damaged. He’d have to replace the hard copies, and redownload the files those databanks held for Karen. It was a good thing she automatically uploaded all data to Stark servers. He took out the mangled chips, tossing them into a pile.

“FRIDAY, what data did these hold?” He asked eyebrows furrowed. Nothing important, he hoped. 

“Placement indicates they should hold Subsystem Menace Protocol and supporting data. Checking with Karen now.” FRIDAY answered smoothly. 

Tony creased his eyebrows, “Checking with Karen?”

Friday rang a bit of static over the lab, a sort of AI chuckle she had taken to doing. She replies with a hint of amusement. “Karen likes to rearrange things. Peter taught her preferences and now she has some.” 

Tony let out a small laugh at that. He could see Peter explaining preferences to Karen. He would be affronted that she had none, and would patiently explain to her what they were, almost like the time he’d sat on a building explaining what civil rights were. “What about you, babygirl? Do you have any preferences?”

There’s a pause, and FRIDAY softly answers, “I prefer when you’re happy, boss.”

“I am happy, FRI.” Tony replies. “Confirmation from Karen?”

“Data chips contain footage from this past week.” FRIDAY informs. “Pulling it from servers as we speak.” 

A small holographic window opened, displaying multiple frames from Spiderman’s patrols. Tony glances over the stills, eye catching on one of him, staring down, a blaster clenched tight in his hands. Tony’s jaw clenched as he remembered the way Peter had said ‘Give it to you. Keep my mouth shut.’ Peter had looked so trusting, so sure that Tony had some sort of explanation. He put his faith in Tony, and he wasn’t going to let the kid down. With that thought, he rolled his shoulders back and got to work on the Spidersuit.

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all, I hope you liked it!! If you have any feedback (positive, negative, just plain mean) I want to know... Also, does anyone want to beta read for me? Because I feel like I need a beta reader to critique my shit.


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